Nighthawk Confessional
by daybreaks
Summary: Roy realizes he has an important conversation he needs to make with his lieutenant. "Don't you think it's kind of weird and disturbing that an ex-serial killer has a crush on you?" Chapter 31.  Roy, Riza


I do quite adore the relationship between these two characters. :D This is my best effort at trying to portray them in a off-manga panel scene! Set your timeline to just after Barry the Chopper goes after Riza in Chapter 31, and they've finished interviewing him in the warehouse.

* * *

><p>Nighthawk Confessional<p>

* * *

><p>How it starts- it starts simply: they walk out of the warehouse; the night is violet black above their heads; the street lamps pulse golden yellow. Roy pauses to hear loud garbled noises coming from behind them. Falman and Barry the Chopper are still arguing inside. (well that isn't simple at all actually… but it doesn't count.) Hawkeye closes the door and Falman's protests become muffled. (<em>this<em> is the important simple). After taking a brief glance at a few pages of messy scrawl, Roy snaps his notebook shut. He exhales a large mushroom puff of a sigh.

"Well there goes another quiet night."

Hawkeye shrugs. "There goes the rest of my day off."

He throws her a look as he takes her grocery bag. It goes unheeded as Hawkeye bends down to untie Black Hayate.

"You seem to be taking all this in stride," he muses suspiciously, "Aren't you even slightly perturbed?"

"You mean…?"

"I mean Barry the Chopper," Roy replies drolly.

"Isn't Alphonse affixed to a suit of armour as well?"

"Yeah but the boy doesn't run around with a massive cleaver on his back trying to _kill_ people."

The force of his last few words results in a small lift of the eyebrows from her. Roy rummages through the paper bag in his hands. "Hey what's this, you _bought_ chocolate? Dark chocolate?"

Smug, he waves the packet at her. "Feeling particularly indulgent today lieutenant?"

She retrieves her groceries in one brisk sweep. "It's great for hot drinks in the wintertime sir. Cures headaches caused from listening to one of my more… gregarious superior officers."

Despite her matter-of-fact tone, he sees her eyes are laughing at him. She's amused. Out of her uniform, dog in one hand and handbag in the other, she looks so much more relaxed.

He pouts, "So cold tonight lieutenant!"

"It _is_ my day off," she reminds archly. "Are you going back to headquarters? It's getting late."

"I suppose I probably should. " Roy yawns. "I'd better find a good excuse. I'll drop you off home- you live around here, don't you?"

She opens her mouth to answer- He answers for her instead.

"…it's only my duty, of course. I wouldn't want you to get accosted again by unsavory sorts," Roy adds. His eyes glint, hand under chin and nodding dubiously.

Hawkeye ignores him and turns to get into the car. "Yes, a ride home would be nice, Colonel."

.

Four minutes later, they're on the streets. The only noise is the steady hum of the engine- yes, you see, it's _still _simple. A hurricane of madness around them and there can they sit in the eye of the storm. Roy relishes in moments like these when it's just the two of them. He glances at Hawkeye.

Barry the Chopper. Roy grits his teeth. That fellow was certainly a bit offbeat. He tries to join the current image of Hawkeye placidly gazing out the window with the image of her an hour ago with some sort of weird metal _thing_ glued to her waist. Like a grope.

A grope.

Something twists unhealthily in his stomach. He should talk to her about this later… No, he really should talk to her about it now.

"So…" he says casually, "What really happened before you called me?"

He gets a deadpan look in response. Her blank face is echoed by Black Hayate's two doggy eyes. However, the canine's mouth drops open into an empty headed panting grin and for some reason it annoys Roy immensely.

"Did Barry the Chopper try to… do anything else to you?"

.

Silence.

The car is achingly, silent.

… that came out wrong, didn't it?

More silence, and it's not golden silence either.

What is he doing with his precious moments of quiet comfortableness? Why is he even asking himself questions? It's okay, he assures himself, the guy sounds a little like a nutcase. I'm her superior. I have a right to be a little concerned.

Hawkeye's lips transform into a tiny smile again.

"Other than trying to chop me to pieces? Not really. I put him off balance by shooting him, then telling him about Alphonse. After that he just started hanging on to me like no end and I called you and you came."

Her words flow out so naturally it's as if she just talking about paperwork or something that happened in the cafeteria the other day- it sounds so _simple_ when it comes out of her mouth.

"But…" Words choke in his mouth uncomfortably, "Does…Does this normally happen to you?"

She blinks.

"Are you trying to ask me," she says slowly, "If I generally get assaulted by suits of armor in the middle of the night?"

And now she is making him sound silly. He does not appreciate this.

"Do you have to put it like that?"

"How were you going to put it?"

Roy bites his lip in aggrieved annoyance. The conversation and his dignity are escaping him and that will not do.

With a last effort, he runs his hand through his hair. "Well, do you normally walk around at this time of the night? Isn't it a little dangerous? Couldn't you have done your shopping earlier?"

And then, "Why on earth would you be out after sunset?"

Pause.

"There could be thieves. Muggers. Gangs. _Rapists_."

Rapists.

He says the last word and nearly jams on the brakes. He's never thought about that, has he?

.

Now the sound of the car engine sounds extremely loud in this sudden vacancy of speech.

His lieutenant looks at him like he's reached a new level of stupidity. She exhales and says calmly, "Colonel, I'm a member of the military; I'm your personal aide and _bodyguard_. If it's unsafe for _me_, Central really has some social issues."

She says these things like she's explaining the obvious to a three year old. But it _has_ been a queer night, hasn't it? Philosopher's stones. Military conspiracies. Serial killers in suits of armour. Having crushes. On his lieutenant. He grits his teeth- okay, it sounds as queer and deranged and wrong as when he first thought about it.

He can't take it any longer.

"Don't you think it's kind of weird and disturbing that an ex-serial killer has a crush on you?"

Roy pauses in a moment of horrified epiphany, "Is this sort of guy you attract?"

Is it? Is it? He's suddenly so glad she's always with him- and then a hysterical afterthought that after Ishbal, he might be a bit of a serial killer too.

"I wouldn't have a clue about the kind of person I attract," she says frankly, "And don't you think you're being a little too fixated on this topic?

Fixated? He thumps a fist on the dashboard and glares at her.

"Because it's damn creepy, that's why. And your nonchalance- that's what's really worrying. Don't tell me you don't _mind_ that sort of… thing."

Where are these revelations coming from? He's never quite thought about it in a way that's _bothered_ him so much before. He racks his brain for if she's been on a date. He looks at her. Yes, surely there must be some military personnel who must have looked at her in some… way. He squirms and pulls a face of distaste in trying to imagine her with _any_ of the men of his department. Fuery. Breda. Falman. Havoc. Ugh.

Like she's suit them. Like they'd even look.

Like he'd _let_ them.

"Why are you asking me all of these things?"

"Why are you reacting so blasé?" he snaps, "And why won't you answer? Or at least show some interest!"

The blonde folds her arms.

"What are you trying to get with this?" she challenges, "Sir, I really don't think you know. What sort of women are you attracted by? Is that what I'm supposed to ask you?"

A mind freeze. Roy stares at her in shock, then swerves his attention back to the road. The content of their conversation is getting explosive.

"How is that a question?" he yelps, "You should know. I go on plenty of dates with… attractive women. I could make half the girls of Central swoon at my feet!"

"...I know. It's not necessary to state the obvious."

The tone frightens him a little; justification seems necessary. "Well, a lot of them are informers anyway. I just make a big show of myself, most of the time…"

"They don't matter _that_ much to me!" the words come out sudden, earnest. He tears away again from concentrating on the road. The wheel jerks.

Hawkeye starts. Roy tries to recover. He chuckles nervously. "But I wouldn't know about you, would I?"

For the first time that night, Hawkeye falters.

"What… What is that supposed to mean?"

A small chill overtakes the car. Try as he might, he finds himself unable to answer. There doesn't seem to be a very good explanation forthcoming.

"How long have you known me?" she asks.

"A long time," he manages.

That's the reason why. He really should know better. Deep inside, Roy knows he knows he knows. But he will not let himself know it.

"So?"

But try as he might, Roy can't seem to piece it together. He's not good at these particular sorts of puzzles. He's known her since he they were children, really. But it's not like they were ever really playmates… just acquaintances… than fellow soldiers… then superior and subordinate.

"So…"

Hawkeye's features droop by a fraction, suddenly looking tired.

"Stop after the second lamppost, my house will be on your left."

She doesn't say anything else. He feels hopelessly inadequate. Embarrassed, he exhales and tries to concentrate on driving.

.

Even when they finally turn the last corner and arrive on her street, the only noise is Hayate's little yips at a recognizing a familiar place. Her eyes look a little flat.

And so Roy stops the car. The hands within his gloves start to sweat. He swiftly gets out before she can and strides over to open her door. Roy walks his lieutenant up her steps and at the apartment's entrance, he takes her keys from her.

As Hawkeye begins to protest he cuts her off. "No, your hands are all full with your groceries, and your dog, and you handbag…" he begins to ramble. "it's alright, I can open your door."

The woman steps back. Her eyes search him quickly, but she still says nothing.

Therefore, he keeps talking, because he doesn't want to hear empty awkward silences and it's never awkward between them. And now he's gone and made it awkward.

"I'll see you as usual, 8am sharp tomorrow, right?"

He fumbles with keys, but finally the lock clicks open.

"Ah, here you go-"

He can't think of anything, he can't think of anything-

He's just as bad as Fullmetal, isn't he?

…Hell no.

The thought disturbs him enough to jar him into action. He tries to assemble the last of his dignity by leaning on her doorframe and sending her his most charming smile and pithy statement. Many flower girls in times past fell to pieces when he did this.

"See" he says, "Chivalry does have its uses. You are home in one piece, and not accosted by any deranged hoodlums."

The comment fails to delight her. The smile she sometimes does just for him had appeared just before, where is it now?

"Lieutenant," he starts.

"What," she answers tersely.

He fumbles for an answer.

They're standing pretty close together on her doorstep. Déjà vu hits him as he comprehends their positions. Last Friday, he'd been like this with Katherine before he dutifully kissed her goodnight. It doesn't help that they're both in civilian clothing. To anyone on the street they probably look like they've just come back from the movies or something.

They could go into her house. Something flares inside of him and it's not healthy, he knows.

"We look like a couple who's just come back from a date."

She freezes. He does the same. The moment flips upside down and the sudden feeling of vertigo in his stomach is a little frightening.

He looks away. At the ground. "But of course it isn't. It just looks like it. I mean… you know…"

His heart strains against his chest.

"I mean…"

Hang him, he's not a teenager, but he really wants to know.

"Are you really attracted to that sort of a thing?" he blurts out.

…That sounds even more asinine than all the other questions put together.

His lieutenant's eyes pierce his, razor sharp and a sudden spring of tension wrings itself in her body. At first, he thinks its anger and it scares him. She's rarely angry at him. Annoyed, perhaps. Exasperated, perhaps- but not this heat of an emotion.

He moves closer, but the woman holds up her hand. He sees her right arm tighten around that paper bag of groceries; sees her shoulders stiffen; sees her left hand clench around Black Hayate's leash. Helpless, he stands there.

Finally, she releases the tension and emits a sound a little like a sigh.

But it is a low, low sound. And within that single noise, an entire spectrum of emotion and thought have been contained.

"_Colonel_," she manages, "the personal romantic likes or dislikes of your subordinate aren't really that much of your business."

Relief floods Roy- this sharp practicality is something he's quite familiar with. So he wasn't as bad as he had thought, she wasn't as affected-

He's about to open his mouth when she softens… and then throws him a helpless look as she quickly adds,

"…And whatever you do or who you see… You know you keep me far too busy for anything like that."

No.

His grin slides off his face and a slump of mixed feelings triggers within his chest. His mouth falls open.

He looks swiftly away and tries to cover it with a short laugh.

"…Do I?" Roy shuffles on his feet, then pauses.

The night casts a chill over him and he looks out onto the street. Not a soul stirs to break the mood. They really are alone.

"You know, I think I've said that at the end of the day I'm a one woman man… I tell that to Elizabeth-chan sometimes. I wonder what she thinks."

She is silent.

His laugh turns brittle. "I think I'm a bit of fool instead."

Through his fringe he barely raises his head to meet her eyes. Hawkeye's expression turns bittersweet and she looks away.

"Elizabeth-chan?" she whispers, "I think she already knows."

His shoulders go slack. How did she ever manage to get involved with someone like him?

"Ah." He tries to force some joviality into his words, "Well, that's good… to know."

Roy moves forward and slips the house keys back into Hawkeye's hands. His hands linger over hers. Her finger tips are warm; they fit neatly beneath his own. Black Hayate snuffles at their feet and Roy wonders whether he should do something more. He wishes he could do something more. He wants to do-

All courage has left him.

Hawkeye gently pushes her hand away from his.

He cannot even move his hands to brush her hair off her shoulder.

So instead he moves away from her doorstep and mumbles, "See you tomorrow" over his shoulder.

His legs move mechanically forward, as if pulled by puppet strings. His shoes seem to drag along the ground. It's odd. He's left suddenly so weary, a strange sort of apathy and yet his heart is beating his brain for his complete inability to turn around.

A couple of steps more and Roy reaches the pavement. He can hear the jangle of metal in her hands as she plays with her keys. All he has to is backtrack a little, make something happen...or make everything collapse.

They can't have that happening, can they?

Roy steels himself and keeps walking towards his car.

"Goodnight," she calls softly.

The farewell hangs in the air after him and neither stop to take it down again.

* * *

><p>Oh this has been my pet project whim for the past few months, been fun to do. :) Hopefully... all the complications make sense, and I haven't been too vague, have I?<p>

Do review, if you have comments, or even if you've enjoyed this! I hoard up reviews and treasure them immensely~


End file.
